A 100 miles/hour in the Wrong Direction

Tonight the car seemed to have a mind of its own. After a long week, being nurse to a sick little one, taxi driver to school, cook, dish washer, chief toilet scrubber and referee, it felt good to just drive.  No destination in the GPS, no clock to beat, just an aimless wanderer zooming past the familiar sights of town.  Deep exhales to release the busyness of the week – sigh. Chocolate would be great right now.

Just like on life’s journey the question surfaces yet again – so, where we are headed?  The response was the same as I’ve heard a 1000 times.  Just keep driving and I’ll show you.

The left blinker flashed and I startled from the noise, awakened from being stuck in my  own head.  The neon sign before me was as shocking as it was blinding to weary eyes.

I turned into the parking lot of the local gentlemen’s club, the “Sundowner” –  cars of plenty.  Now some serious confusion started to set in.  Sorry I don’t get it, God.  Why are we here? Pretty sure I could make a lengthy list of alternative Friday night destinations. Despite my resistance, an answer came clearer than the bold images on the sign.

“You’re here to sit in the parking lot.  To think, to ponder, to pray.  Don’t worry. No need to go inside. Say whatever is on your heart.  I’m right here with you and I’m listening.”

What happened to going to the coffee house for a latte and a muffin tonight? That sounded like a great plan. Couldn’t help but smirk though.  He is always surprising me.

The radio started the dialogue before I could even get any words out.

She is running
A 100 miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying
But the canyon’s ever widening
In the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another misadventure just to find
She’s another two years older
And she’s three more steps behind

Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?
Or does anybody even knows she’s going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple
With all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that’s tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?

Does Anybody Hear Her by Casting Crowns

Some pretty heavy lyrics. Very well timed too.

Slowly words started to slip past my shocked expression and out of my mouth – initially they were filled with judgement.  He listened deeply.  Part way through my pharisee monologue, he began the miracle.   He started to melt my words with his compassion and love.  A wave of empathy washed over. A picture of people trapped in a deep well with no way out.  What if that was me?  Would I want someone to hear? To see? To care?

So, it seemed that He didn’t bring me here to judge, but to love.  To change my heart. To teach me to stand in the gap for the broken, lost, misguided and addicted.

Prayers started to flood like a torrent. Set her free from the belief she isn’t worth loving. Open his heart eyes to see that flesh exposed doesn’t satisfy for long. Restore lives and restitch families held together by only threads. Let this building be repurposed for a noble cause. Forgive, oh please forgive us. For all the ways we make the created our object of affection, instead of the Creator. More and more words started to form.  So many that I couldn’t contain them all in my head.

A few very strange glances by onlookers wondering why in the world is that lady parked here, and who is she talking out loud to with such passion!  Couldn’t help but laugh.

The last two words ended simply – Thank you.

Thank you for not catering to my whims, my comforts and my carrot muffin cravings tonight.

Thank you for showing me more of your heart for the people you made and love. Thank you for growing mine.

Thank you for listening.

By Sue Broshear

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.